Half Alive
by doCHAI
Summary: With Rose, Damon had a chance to get in touch with his humanity. Years after her death, he gets another chance to do so. But will it end well this time?
1. Half Alive

_Author's Note: I'm giving this new Vampire Diaries-fic-in-my-head a try. Funny, it's summer, I have nothing to do, but I'm not all out writing. Please do tell your opinions regarding this fic._

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><p><em>I learned to live half alive<em>

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><p>As far as the world knows, Damon Salvatore no longer exists. As far as the people passing by the architectural genius by the lake are concerned, a lonely man owns that place, and there is no way in hell that his name is Damon Salvatore. There have been talks, that maybe he was mentally ill, an antisocial, a writer who puts his heart on his literature but never in action, or maybe even a rich man with the worst physical impairment who is better off locked away. But the people came to a conclusion – that <em>maybe<em> he was an architect, because how else would his house be such a masterpiece?

No one knew his name. The closest neighbor he has is ten miles away, so people really don't bother getting to know him. The only person he ever talks to is the owner of the convenient store just off the highway. And if he isn't in his house, he can be seen sitting just outside the store.

_What you don't know won't kill you._

That was Damon's new and improved motto. With all the drama in his life gone, all he wanted to do was to live life safely the only way he knew how – laying low. What the people don't know is that he is a vampire, and that he is Damon Salvatore, one of the Salvatore brothers from 1864 Mystic Falls, the town just at the end of the highway. What they don't know is that after all the drama in his life – namely Katherine and Elena – he wanted to lay low. To live slowly and peacefully.

He doesn't even talk to his brother that much. Stefan is always busy silently mauling at Elena. Twenty years have passed and he still isn't over her. Stefan decided to let her go, so that she could live her life normally. They figured that since she survived the storm that was Klaus, she deserved some peace. But Stefan couldn't stay away. He was always watching her from a distance.

Damon is better than that. After Katherine, he knew he deserves better than loving a woman he couldn't have.

Damon has been compelling the owner of the convenience store that he was never there. If he wanted to live peacefully, he needed people not to notice that he never grows old. He sits down at the bench just outside the store, watching the cars pass by. Some even stop to buy some refreshments and Damon doesn't have time to be friendly to them. Occasionally, he would get curious stares from kids who were off to a dumb vacation with their parents, and he would shrug them off by staring back. He became the mysterious man that nobody wanted to mess with.

In another uneventful day, or so Damon thought, a car pulled up in the other side of the road. From what he could make out from his spot, the passengers were two college girls. Going home to Mystic Falls, maybe? Summer was just entering.

Summer – Damon's favorite time of the year. Maybe it was the sun – the only thing linking him to his humanity. He was thankful that he had a ring that would prevent him from burning under the sun. He cannot even begin to imagine how to live without being able to walk under the sun. What a nightmare, added to the fact that he was a living nightmare – a vampire. He not burning in the sun gives him reason to pretend that he wasn't a monster – that he doesn't fit perfectly in the description of a vampire. Sure, he drinks blood, he doesn't grow old, but at least he doesn't burn in the sun.

Damon cringes at the thought of a friend he once knew. His special friend who spent half a century being a slave of the sun. He remembered how he granted her last wish, and he wanted to vomit at the cheesiness of what he did.

But who was he fooling. He cared.

"Excuse me, there's no one inside," the woman was addressing him.

He remembered the days when he would stop a car, prompting the passengers to come out, and then rip the neck and drain all the blood in their system. He repressed the smile that was threatening to form in his lips. If he were the old Damon, the Damon whose life was full of drama, the two college girls will be the on top of his victim list.

"Then there's no one inside," he offered a fake smile. He wanted to be left alone. Besides, does he even look like a receptionist?

The woman raised an eyebrow, "Well maybe you could tell us if we're heading towards the right direction," she pointed towards where they were obviously headed. "Mystic Falls?"

"Yes, now get going," except he didn't say it, he had another smart answer. "Didn't you bring a map?" Once in a while, Damon liked being the rude guy.

"Emily! I told you I can read a map. We don't need to ask anyone."

Damon's head snapped in the direction where the voice was coming from. That British accent was unmistakable, he knew he heard it somewhere, but where exactly, he doesn't know. But then he saw her – brown hair with soft curls landing on her shoulders. She obviously witnessed how he expressed his hospitality to her friend. But it was impossible. He can still clearly remember the night he torn his own heart into pieces. And yet she was there – alive and breathing, and more importantly, giving him a glare.

"Rose," he muttered. It was impossible. "Rose," he said again, trying to call her attention, but not loud enough for her to hear. But it was too late. Her friend was already in the car, driving away from the rude man outside the convenient store.


	2. Back to the Start

_Author's Note: In a high school fashioned way, I finally updated this fic hours before going to my grandmother's house. A place where my wireless broadband probably won't work. So here it is! Feedback is very much appreciated._

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><p><em>Oh take me back to the start<em>

She looked around, seeing nothing but trees and dried leaves on the ground. They were lucky to have a member of the Mystic Falls Historical Society with them to lead the way to the old house believed to be the site of the witch burnings many years ago. She personally didn't believe any of the rumors about the place, but she wouldn't pass the opportunity to go to a rare historical place. History comes naturally to her – like she herself has experienced it.

She and her friend got out of the car, along with their tour guide. She held her cell phone up in the air, hoping that she would somehow get some service. "My phone doesn't work when I'm outside the car," she announced.

"We're in a forest," her friend laughed at her.

She just gave her friend a glare. "Just go without me. I need to wait for my father's secretary to call."

Her friend gave her a questioning look as she took out her camera.

"They're expecting me back at London by this time. You dragged me in the last minute, remember?" She gave her friend a soft smile when they started to walk deeper in the forest. "I'll be fine, stay safe out there."

But she wasn't one to be left out. Despite the fact that she was indeed waiting for a call, she couldn't stop herself from getting out of the car and exploring the forest – not far from the car of course. She decided to leave her phone in the car. That way, when someone calls her, they would at least be greeted by her voice mail. She wasn't going that far, she's not dumb enough to do that – she wasn't going to let the car out of sight so she knows she can never get lost.

The little town called Mystic Falls really was something. They had a very eager Historical Society, and the Historical Society really had something to brag about. It wasn't deep into the forest when she saw pillar ruins. From what her friend inadvertently taught her, she concluded that it must've been a house. And judging from the distance of the pillars from each other, and the number of pillars, it must've been a mansion.

"It's not safe to be out here alone," a man called out, and she immediately turned her head to the direction of the voice.

She kept her composure. The man seemed harmless, but she wasn't going to rely on the man's appearance. "Says someone who doesn't have a companion himself," she remarked.

"I know this place by heart, we used to have a house here," the man answered.

She looked around, wondering if the house he was referring to was the one that is now the pillar ruins.

"My family used to have a house here, many generations back," he corrected, noticing that she didn't believe him. He took slow steps towards her, careful with his actions to make sure that she doesn't mistake him for a serial killer or something similar. "I'm Damon Salvatore," he said offering a hand shake.

"Rose," she said, taking Damon's hand.

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><p>Damon took a sharp intake of breath when she said her name, and he could've sworn he felt a jolt of electricity when he touched her hand. Maybe he was a magnet for doppelgangers because the woman in front of him was Rose – except that she was human, and that he killed Rose many years ago. Still, he couldn't find any difference, except for the hair, which was slightly lighter and fell in soft curls inches below her shoulders. But why was it that her name is still Rose? And how can he remember the shade of Rose's hair anyway, after all those years?<p>

"You're the rude guy from the convenient store!" Rose accused after a sudden realization and much staring at his face.

He wondered when she was going to notice it, and very well rehearsed his rebuttal. But he found himself speechless, more from that rare smile on Rose's face that he only saw in the dream he made for her than from the fact that Rose was standing right in front of him. "I… I…"

"I should go back to the car," Rose said, taking small steps backward. "If I get lost here you'd probably not tell me how to get back."

"Wait!" Damon said. "I…" she wouldn't stop walking. "I am that guy from the convenient store, and I didn't mean to be rude." _I did mean to be rude; I just didn't know it was you_.

"Well, you should probably go back to your mysterious trek to your family's house ruins," she said, opening the door of the car. "And I should get in the car because I need to wait for a phone call."

Damon had no idea what Rose meant but it was pretty clear that she wanted to get rid of him. He just stared at her, wondering why he wasn't compelling her, despite the fact that he was in a very convenient position to do so.

"It was nice meeting you, Damon Salvatore," she said with a polite smile on her face.

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><p>Of course he wasn't going to give up just like that. It was a good thing that after all those years there was still one place in town where one can get a decent dinner, aside from their homes – Mystic Grill. Damon walked in, memories of not eating and more of hell raising quickly flooded his mind. This time though, he was just planning on waiting for someone and talking to that someone. <em>Some things never change<em>, he thought as he made his way through the crowded restaurant.

He went straight to the bar and occupied a stool, smiling as he noticed that Rose and her friend – the one who asked him directions and the reason that Rose had the wrong first impression on him – were a few tables behind him. Being a vampire came with its perks, and it would be a shame for Damon not to use it.

"_My mother was not pleased that she would have to cancel one of my meetings," _Damon heard Rose speaking. _"But don't worry about it, Emily. Helping you with your thesis is totally worth missing that meeting, whatever that is."_

When Damon's drink came, he ordered for another one, and told – compelled the waiter to take it to the table where Rose was, making sure he gives it to Rose and not to her friend. Rose intrigued him. Was she another doppelganger? Was there another curse to break? But if that is so, why does it seem that she was the same Rose that he knew?

"_We're only here for a day and you already get a free drink," _Damon heard her friend say. Emily? He hopes she's not the same as the Emily he knew.

"_I've met him earlier," _Rose said. Damon could hear her standing up, making her way towards him. _"I'll just talk to him for a minute," _she called out to her friend.

Damon put on his best tantalizing smile, preparing to face Rose. But then again, maybe it was better for him to just avoid this new Rose. After all, Elena brought nothing but drama in his life. A second Katherine did no good to him; maybe a second Rose would be no good to him too. _I know the risks, but I have to know her_, he laughed at that line he once read from his brother's diary. And now, he's just as stupid as his brother.

"If you knew who I was, you wouldn't give me this," Rose said, placing the glass of bourbon down next to his. "I don't take drinks from a stranger."

Damon frowned. "But we've met."

"I still don't know you," she smirked.

Was this the Rose that he didn't get to know? Was this Rose before she went running from Klaus? All he can remember was the werewolf bite, how she loved the sun, and how she can read him perfectly. "Well you can order your drink and we can talk."

She looked over to her friend, who was making her way to the pool table.

"Your friend seems like she's done with dinner," Damon said, wondering why he don't just compel her. If he did, he wouldn't need to actually convince her, which proves to be harder than usual. "One drink," he encouraged.

Rose rolled her eyes and sat on the stool beside him. She ordered her drink and checked her phone for no reason.

"Let me guess," Damon said, breaking the silence, "History Major, and you're doing your thesis in this little historical town called Mystic Falls."

"Let _me_ guess," Rose answered, "high paying job without having to do much. That would be the only reason why I keep seeing you lurking around town, when normal people should be working."

Damon was surprised, maybe she really was Rose. "I could be a college student on vacation."

"You don't look that young to me," Rose said, taking a sip of her drink and giving him a smile. "No offense."

"None taken," Damon said, wondering if she knew about the true history of Mystic Falls. "British?"

"No, I'm just faking my accent," Rose said, breaking into a laugh when his eyebrows shoot upwards. He smiled, remembering the last time he heard that laugh. They were in the hills and Rose was challenging him into a race. _One… Two… _"What is with you, asking me these questions? You're not paparazzi in disguise, are you?"

Damon didn't answer; he was busy staring at her face. This was Rose without having to run from Klaus, without a best friend who suddenly died, without a werewolf bite, and most especially, this was Rose as a human – the one thing she wanted the most. He snapped back into reality when she noticed that he was staring and turned to look away.

"So you're British, still no confirmation on whether or not you are a History Major – "

"I'm not," Rose cut in. "My father would love it if I was though." Maybe it was her low tolerance for alcohol or the fact that the man she was talking to was asking for it – she found herself talking a little more than usual. "It would also make my life in the University a lot easier if I was. I'm on pre-med, and I'm going to be a doctor. And yes, I'm not studying in England because I want to get away from my father and his plans. I'm also using my friend's thesis as an excuse not to go home yet."

Damon was bewildered that she told him that. He raised his glass, "Free will."

"Free will," she smiled, taking a sip of her drink. "I'm going to be seeing you around am I?" Rose asked, trying to sound disappointed.

_Yes you will. It will be very hard to stay away from you_, Damon thought, at the same time thinking of a nice way to say it. "You've just made yourself a mysterious person. Maybe sometimes you can tell me more about your father and his plans."

"And you can tell me how your old family mansion ended up in pillar ruins, instead of a big historical house," she smiled, figuring out why this man is wasting his time talking to her. Partly, she was happy that he didn't know who she was. "I should go. My friend has a lot to do tomorrow – big day. And she dragged me to be her conscience, remind her that she's here for her thesis, not vacation." She looked at Emily, who looked very busy trying to win over the pool table.

Damon let her go. There was still tomorrow. He wouldn't press himself on her. The last thing he needed was her thinking that he's a stalker, and that he's stalking her especially – which is exactly what he was doing at the moment. "Do you have a last name? And… a number?" He was pressing his luck, but he couldn't care less.

Rose stopped in her tracks. This was it, once he knew her last name, she would be revealed. And for once, she was willing to take her chance, "Howard. And you will just have to find me."


End file.
